


Negotiations

by zeroxfortyfive



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Dominance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 12:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeroxfortyfive/pseuds/zeroxfortyfive
Summary: A problematic buyer forces Quill to flex his “negotiation skills”. Gamora finds his tactics just as effective on her.One-shot that takes place somewhere between Vol. 2 and Infinity War.





	1. The Negotiations were Short

“What do you mean, no?” Quill shouted, suddenly slamming his hand on the table. “We slogged our asses halfway across the damn galaxy for this and you’re telling me you aren’t even going to _touch_ it?”

            “It is damaged. It is not my prerogative to do business with those who do not respect their work,” said the voice across the table. It belonged to a particularly repulsive creature, one with three red eyeballs the size of a softball, and a pale-toned skin closely matching the color of what Rocket had earlier affectionately referred to as “baby vomit”. Blinking (each eyeball out of sync with the other), he leant forward to examine the object.

            “You can see there are exactly four tiles missing from the gravitation accelerator component. The quality is simply unacceptable. Leave it here, and I shall decide what payment this insufficient job is worth.”

            This seemed to push Quill from explosive anger to silent, mouth flopping up and down as he processed this. The buyer simply leant back and stared him down, his icy gaze speaking volumes. I stepped forward, ready to intervene.

            You would think saving the galaxy twice would get you a little more respect, but the rest of the universe seems to have missed out on that part- this wasn’t unusual for how our business deals often went. As per usual, Rocket, Drax and Mantis would stay with the ship. Rocket had a tendency to get _violent_ when buyers tried to back out, and we learned quickly that it often meant we would have no buyer at all. Usually Drax would get involved, and Mantis would do whatever Drax does, so it took us only a brawl or two to fix our negotiation tactics. These days, Peter did most of the talking, and I would provide the needed “pressure”. Turns out a sharp sword makes excellent negotiating motivation.

            Today, though, was different. Usually once Peter finished his little tantrum I would draw my sword, say a few threatening things, and we would be on our way. As I reached for it on my belt, though, I felt his hand on my shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but I could tell it was restrained. Turning to look at Peter, I saw a fire in his eyes that doesn’t often rear its head. I could see his chest slowly rise as he took a deep breath, turning back to face our buyer. It took every ounce of my willpower to not buckle at the knees.

            Peter, for all his benefits, is not very good at threatening people. He likes to think he can, but usually just says something stupid and starts shooting. Effective, I’ll give him that, but not threatening. There’s been very few times I’ve seen him be properly intimidating, and every time has shot fire through my veins. I’d never tell him, of course, I’d never hear the end of it. This time, however, it was taking all I had to not melt. It’s a funny feeling, this attraction. After repressing it for so long, every step into this world is ten times more exciting, and it’s gotten quite difficult to keep a lid on it at times- case in point, right then.

            Quill advanced on the buyer, trailing a hand along the edge of the table.

            “Listen. This came directly out of the hands of one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. We did you the courtesy of not including his hands with your purchase. Now, a smart businessman would realize that this is the best and only chance he’s ever going to get, and can take his ass down to the space-Sears and pick up whatever he needs to fix it.”

            I could see the sweat starting to build on the buyer’s forehead. It was nothing, however, compared to what I could feel building in my core. I wriggled a little in place, trying to gain what little friction I could between my legs without betraying my cold demeanor. I couldn’t help it, the sight of him was just too much to take. Every step he took, every pitch lower his voice dropped- it set off fireworks in me, just begging to be released.

            By now, Peter was standing directly in front of him. He slowly reached one hand down to his side, pulling loose the two-pronged blaster he always kept close. I could see it wasn’t turned on, but I’m not sure the buyer knew that. Holding it carefully, Peter slowly ran it along the edge of our buyer’s jaw, feather-light, but a constant warning all the same. I could practically feel it along my own face, imagining every small stroke of the smooth metal was the strong, warm hands of a certain outlaw who had _no idea_ how effective this negotiation was turning out to be.

            “I’m going to give you one more chance. You either buy this component from us, like we agreed, or you’re going to seriously regret not taking that first option.”

            Part of me wanted him to refuse. Looking back, it was me who wanted to do the refusing- I wanted him to round on me, dark eyes full of power, pin me up against the wall with his strong frame, and _make_ me buy that piece of crap-

            I was suddenly shaken out of that pleasant thought by the sound of Peter’s voice.

            “Gamora. Let’s go. Our friend here seems to have made the right call.”

            The fire in his eyes had dimmed somewhat, replaced with what looked like compassionate concern. As nice as it was to have him looking out for me and making sure I was okay, I was a little disappointed to see that some of the strength had left his body. He must have noticed my sluggishness, but clearly I was doing a good job of hiding exactly why. Shaking my head a little, I snapped back into the world.

            “Good,” I said, “I was starting to think he’d need some extra persuasion.”

            And with that, we left the sweaty lump of a man (thing), staring blankly at the wall behind us.


	2. A More Personal Discussion

The trip back to the ship was short. We had docked close to the meeting spot, which thankfully didn’t give us a lot of time to discuss what just happened. As we neared, the ramp dropped, and we headed up inside.

            “Did you get it?” asked Rocket, promptly upon seeing us arrive.

            “Thank you, friend, for the sincere compassion and concern for our well-being after such an event,” Peter shot back, eyeing the raccoon’s armful of suspicious-looking cables.

            “Yeah, yeah. She was with you, Quill. Anything happened, she’d have taken care of it before you even noticed.”

            I gave Rocket a small smirk. As annoying as he was at times, we did have a solid respect for each other’s willingness to crack some skulls. He winked, before turning back to Peter, a more serious look on his small face.

            “You never answered. Did we get the money?”

            “Yes, Rocket, we did. Fourteen hundred-thousand credits, ours for the usual six-way splitting.”

            “Good. I had every bit of faith in you.” Rocket turned and made his way down the corridor.

            “Your tone of voice tells me otherwise,” Peter shouted after him, “but I’m going to take that as a compliment!” The only response was a distant chuckle.

            Turning back to me, Peter gave me a look- his annoying, irritating, very cute _something-is-bothering-you-and-I’m-too-nice-for-my-own-good-so-let’s-talk-about-it_ look. He headed down the opposite way, towards our bunks. It was obvious he wanted me to follow, and the dull throb between my legs made a compelling argument to go with him. While the initial arousal had subsided, the thought of his commanding voice remaining fresh in my mind.

            Making our way to his bunk, I slid the door closed behind me. It didn’t do much good on preventing our conversation from leaving the room, but the small amount of privacy made me feel safer. He sat on the edge of his bed, hanging up his jacket and unlacing his boots. As per usual, he slipped the tape out of his Walkman, slotting it into a dock in the wall. [Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sAm5UCJ9vA) softly filled the room from the wall speakers.

            “So, what’s going on?” he asked. I was immensely grateful of the way he didn’t pry. Vocalizing my actual feelings was never easy for me, and over even just the few weeks of getting more intimate, he had picked up on that fact and always gave me time to collect myself.

            “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to feel out what he suspected.

            “You went all zoned-out on me during that meeting,” he replied. “I’m not trying to scold you for sleeping on the job or anything, but that’s not like you. Something on your mind?”

I looked at him. As much as I wanted to tell him, my face decided against it and I just kept staring. After what felt like an eternity of him searching my (annoyingly) blank expression, he opened his mouth.

            “Okay, so you aren’t going to tell me which means _I_ get to guess, huh?” He sounded…amused? Like this was some game. Truthfully, I was grateful for the opportunity to not have to speak. I’m not sure I could have done it, even if I tried.

            “You got very quiet when I started threatening him, so let’s start from there, shall we?”

            He leaned back onto the mattress, hands tucked behind his head.

            “I’m thinking two options here: either you were concerned for the safety of our dear friend, or something else was distracting you…”

            He sat up quickly.

            “That doesn’t mean…you… _liked_ that dude?! Gross, Gamora, he was probably the ugliest thing I’ve seen, and that’s including Drax’s bits!”

            As annoying as the accusation was, I did laugh a little. The incident involving Peter walking in on Drax right out of the shower was a good source of entertainment among us. Quickly though, I shook my head, denying such a horrid idea.

            “Okay, not the dude…did you think we should have sold the part for more, but you didn’t want to compromise my image of authority?”

            Another head shake. Getting colder, Peter. A smirk grew across his features.

            “Could it be you liked…me?”

            I know it was meant as a joke, but the deep flush running up my neck and along my cheeks betrayed my mind’s rationality. His eyes widened.

            “Okay…not the answer I expected, but…what’s up? You’re usually good at keeping that under wraps.”

            More silence on my part. I shifted a little where I stood. I could see him getting a bit more exasperated in the way he held himself.

            “Gamora…tell me.” His tone had changed, becoming darker, more forceful. I didn’t think my face could get any hotter, but there it went, burning brighter than any star I’d seen.

            This time, a full grin broke out across his face.

            I knew at that point he had me figured out. “If you tell _anyone_ about this, I’m definitely going to throw you out the airlock,” I said, a little too hurriedly.

             “I guess there’s only one thing I can do about it,” he said, voice dropping a timbre. “Get on the bed.”

            This time, my legs practically did give out. Any authority I had immediately melted away. I slid unceremoniously onto the bed, a new flush shooting its way up my face and down my body. The throbbing in my core returned tenfold, my chest heaving with the unspent tension. Looking him in the eyes, I could see that cloud of power making its return. I had never seen a more welcome sight.

            “It sounds like someone needs a little…direction,” he said, crawling closer, over my body. I didn’t quite feel helpless, as I knew he wouldn’t do anything I was uncomfortable with. It was thrilling, though, being below him and totally within his grasp, in all senses of the word.

            “Take off your shirt,” he demanded. What else could I do but comply? I unbuckled the clasp on the front of my black top before sliding it over my head, tossing it to the side of the room. Peter grabbed my hands, pulling them up and above my head, with my torso exposed to him. He leant forward, pressing a strong kiss to where my jaw meets neck. My eyes snapped shut, a soft moan escaping against my better judgment. I could feel him smirk against my skin as he repeated the motion, wet and hot. It was torturous, the way his mouth moved against me. It shot sparks down my skin, tingling through my arms.

            He moved lower achingly slowly, lavishing attention to every part of my upper chest. When he reached the thin wrap of my undershirt, he looked me in the eyes before slipping it off himself. As compromising as the position was, it was exciting to feel so exposed. I could feel the excited tension in my lower stomach increasing as his head came closer and closer to me. Softly, although not without purpose, I felt his mouth latch around my nipple. I groaned as he tugged it lightly with his teeth, removing one hand to massage my other breast. Taking advantage of the freedom, I ran my free hand through his hair, digging my nails into his scalp as he had his way. Every kiss, caress, suck drew a breathy moan out of me. After what felt like an eternity, he moved off and sat up. Looking up at his face, I could see he was as flushed as I was, panting with what I could only recognize as desire. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it off to reveal his well toned, albeit soft body. He wasn’t quite as chiseled as when we met, but he seemed happier for it. It was more _him._

            He kept going, though. Shortly after the shirt came pants and shoes, until he was resting on his haunches, the only thing separating us being a loose pair of boxers. Shuffling forward, he came to rest, kneeling above my chest.

            “I think you know what to do. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

            The authority of that statement plus the position he sat in really only gave me one option. A rush of heat flooded my core as I reached in and freed his manhood. It was a sizeable length, thick enough to wrap my hand around as I gave it a few soft pumps. I concentrated on my effort. It was almost too much to look up and see him, intently watching me as I worked. Every stroke cause him to squirm slightly, his body betraying the air of confidence he put forward. Grinning at him, I leaned up a little to take the tip into my mouth. The deep groan he let out when my tongue made contact was definitely indication it was a good idea. As my mouth massaged him, I could feel the wetness between my own legs growing. As if on cue, I gasped around his cock as I felt a strong finger stroke its way up my slit.

            “Did I say you could stop?” he asked, forcefully, the sudden shot of pleasure giving me pause.  I shook my head slightly before resuming my movements. I bobbed up and down his length, deeper now, taking as much of him as I could. As I sucked him faster and faster, coating his dick with my saliva, the movements of his fingers sped up as well. For being a headstrong idiot, he sure knew his way around. His fingers deftly pressed up against every part I loved, his finger pads forming slow, gentle circles around my clit. I moaned around his cock, the vibration sending a pleasant shiver up his spine.

            We continued like this for a while, letting the spring in my core coil slowly. Just when I thought the tension couldn’t build much higher, he suddenly pulled back, a thin line of saliva still connecting him with my mouth. I inhaled sharply, the loss of fullness slightly jarring. He locked eyes with me, positioning himself further down my body as he reached under the bed. Realizing exactly what he was doing, my breath caught in my throat. His hand returned, a small silver packet in his hands. Tearing it open, he slid the condom down his shaft.

            The feeling of fullness was always surprising at first. It was far from the first time we had ever had sex, but each time the sensation of being stretched always took a little getting used to. Don’t get me wrong, it felt _fantastic_ , but it was always a bit of an adjustment. I could see his eyes darken with lust, a deep groan emitting from his chest. I ran my hands over his back, taking in the profile of every muscle I could feel pulsing as he thrust into me. The friction was intense, his length slipping along my soaked walls. I don’t think I had ever been so turned on in my life. He was so warm inside me, hissing a little as the cool air enveloped him on every thrust. I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed like that. It felt like hours of ecstasy, although I’m sure it was only a few minutes. In between thrusts, he grabbed my chin with his hand, tilting my face up to meet his. His lips crashed into mine, our tongues meetimg in a fast, wet dance. He pulled back, both of us panting.

            “You’re going to cum for me, Gamora. In fact,” He paused for a particularly strong thrust, causing me to cry out into his shoulder. “you’re going to do that right now.” His words were accentuated by a thumb grinding into my clit, which was all it took. All the tension of the past few hours seemed to release at once, ripping through me like a crack through ice. The spring deep inside me uncoiled, all my limbs shuddering with the exertion. Waves of pleasure washed through me. I could feel myself clenching around him as he spent himself into the condom with a low moan. I clung to his strong frame, relishing in every tightening of my walls. Eventually, the intense sensation settled down into a pleasant tingle, a comfortable sense of warmth spreading through my bones.

            Peter had pulled out by this point, condom expertly tied and tossed into a can by the bed. Rolling onto my side, I felt his arm snake around my side and hold me tightly in a pleasant embrace. The intensity and authority from earlier had dissipated, instead replaced by a comfortable feeling of belonging as we snuggled closer.

            “I’ll admit, I didn’t think that was something you were into. I’m certainly not complaining about the outcome, though,” he said into my ear. With my free arm, I lightly slapped his chest.

            “Thank you,” I replied, more honestly than I expected. “It was…hard to admit that.”

            He didn’t respond, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, placing a soft, chaste kiss to the skin there.

            “We might have to adjust our negotiation routines now, though,” I said, with a daring wiggle of my hips, pressing myself a little into his crotch.

            He barked a small laugh. “Believe me, I could think of many worse fates to befall me.”

            “I think you underestimate how insatiable you can make me, space-dork.”

            “You know, I think I’m up to the challenge.”

            I smiled, content in his embrace. It was nice being the warrior, but letting go seemed to feel just as good. I was glad to find we were able to find our common ground. After all, wasn’t that the most important part of negotiating?

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell what movie I've been rewatching recently?
> 
> Something a little different that popped into my head. Gamora has always been an interesting character, and I feel like there's definitely something there hidden underneath all that assassin training.
> 
> As always, enjoy and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading <3


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